


Your Love is My Drug

by StrangertoBluewaters



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Chair fucking, F/M, Sexual Tension, Sit on the d, Spanking, yup spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 14:45:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18166550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangertoBluewaters/pseuds/StrangertoBluewaters
Summary: Frustration runs rabid through Michael Burnham.





	Your Love is My Drug

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a week after 'He Likes to Watch'. Do you like my tags? lol

Your Love is My Drug

  


Michael knew she was beginning to wake up. The subtle shift from unconsciousness to consciousness was taking shape as her dreams faded and a black void took over in the shape of the back of her eyelids.

 

A strange taste coated the inside of her mouth. Had she not brushed her teeth before bed?

 

Warmth surrounds her, unfamiliar foreign smells assault her senses. God she feels good. But the ache builds slowly, forming in the pit of her stomach and traveling lower. Wincing she lifts her head a little.

 

The room is still dark. There’s breath hitting her back, a light snore...

 

Shit.

 

Lifting a hand to her eyes she rubs the slowly.

 

Then she dares herself to turn...

 

Captain Pike sleeps on his side, an arm reaching out to where she had been lying and the other under his head.

 

Oh. _Right_. Flashes of Michael being fucked to within an inch of her sanity jolt her to complete alertness.

 

She hasn’t noticed the snoring has stopped as she sits there taking even breaths.

 

“Baby steps, Michael.” He says, a tired voice but his voice nonetheless.

 

Nodding Michael runs her hands over her body, as if cold. She was suddenly very aware of every inch of herself and another wince strikes her between the legs. Chris notices her discomfort, rising half up and running a hand down her back saying,

 

“I can replicate something for that.” She nods.

 

“I... underestimated the after pain.” She says and he looks mildly regretful. Kissing her temple he gets up, foregoing pants and she looks away.

 

He comes back with a hypospray cylinder.

 

“This should help along with...” he pauses as she takes it. “Well a preventive.”

 

“An Oops Hypospray?” She says with an air of sarcasm and it lightens the mood and his shoulders relax, he scratches the back of his head as he joins her on the bed.

 

Michael injects it into her arm and sets the cylinder on the table beside the bed.

 

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” He says, hoping she knows he means it. He’d never been an extremely rough lover. Losing control like he did last night had been as surprising to him as it had been for her.

 

He’s not sure what had gotten into him.

 

“It’s ok,” she tells him, leaning her side against his. “I didn’t ask you to stop.”

 

Chris’ arm goes around her naked waist.

 

“It... it was very good.” Says Chris and Michael blushes, covering her face and smiling bashfully.

 

He chuckles, pulling her hand from her eyes.

 

“What?” He asks and she shakes her head.

“You watched me... you _know_.”

“Mast-ur-bate.” He emphasises it and she giggles harder.

 

God, she really had. And she had watched him too... frankly, it was a little unbelievable for both of them. Each brought out something in the other that was completely estranged from their normal personas. Michael knew she should’ve felt more appalled by how willingly she had let herself get carried away- with her Captain no less- but she strangely wasn’t.

 

In fact, despite her embarrassment, she had felt totally free.

 

For Chris his secret kink of watching a woman pleasure herself wasn’t something he normally shared with a partner so into... well, what was their relationship?

 

“Baby steps.” Michael says softly, his hand in her own. She turns it over, examining his palms, tracing each long and short line. What had these hands seen and done?

 

“Somethin’ on your mind?” He asks her and she shakes her head.

“Nothing, surprisingly.” She answers shortly thereafter. “Except...”

“Yeah.” He strokes a cheek as she looks up at him.

 

“I should go. While there’s still time.” Michael says, sadly and without any agenda. Honestly, she didn’t care if anyone saw her leave. But others would care. Important bigwigs within the chain of command. And she couldn’t risk his career or reputation.

 

“I seem to recall saying something about ruffling feathers.” Says Chris, his arms tightening a little more, she presses a hand into his chest.

 

“Some feathers need to stay in place.” She says firmly, although she can’t deny the pull she has to stay with him. With a deep sigh he kisses her lips softly, nodding a little in the process.

 

“Your wish is my command.” He says and he releases her, letting his arms fall at his sides.

 

Michael rises and Chris leans back, covering his lower half with the blanket. Blankets that smell like them both. He watches as she searches his room for her ruined panties and her dress. She blushes anew when she catches him, his hand at his temple again, watching her with those blue eyes...

 

_Touch yourself..._

 

“Don’t,” she warns him and he feigns innocence.

“What?”

“You’re watching again.” She tells him as she slips her dress back on, tying it in the back with affiency.

 

Chris shrugs.

 

“Need I remind you, Burnham, I like to watch?” There’s that tone again. He’s toying with her, challenging her to stay a little longer. Well if he liked to watch she should like to make him wait.

 

Michael rolls her tongue in her mouth.

 

“I need no reminding, Captain.” She says, a new found confidence in a part of herself has been born. He was to blame for that. She thinks of his hands tearing at the dress she now wears. Of how he tasted in her mouth... Christ, she really had done all of that. And she wanted to again and again.

 

“You sure about that?” He asks and Jesus the way he’s reclining on his bed, lazy, unkempt and absolutely handsome is almost enough to make her crawl into bed and grind his pelvis into dust.

 

And that’s definitely something Tilly would’ve said and probably approve of.

 

Swallowing, Michael chooses the road she’s used to.

 

“Quite.” She answers.

 

When she’s dressed all that’s left are the sweater and shoes in the other room. He holds out his hand to her, beckoning her she come closer. Michael eyes him closely.

 

“I shall be a gentleman,” he promises. “Come here.”

 

Michael goes to him and he sits up, taking hold of her hips. She brushes her fingers over his face and he kisses the inside of her wrist and she stops herself from inhaling sharply. Chris clasps his hands behind her back, just above her ass.

 

“When we get back to the ship,” he begins. “Appearances will have to kept.”

“Are you doubting my ability to fake it?” She asks and he groans, leaning his face into her belly.

 

“That’s not exactly something a man wants to hear, Michael.” He says and she giggles and kisses the top of his head.

 

“I know what you mean,” she says more seriously. “It will be as if it never happened.”

“And... behind closed doors?” He leaves the question hanging on for a breath.

“It can happen again.”

 

Michael leaves, kissing him several times. Unable to stop herself from keeping it at one last kiss. She had never felt such girlish butterflies before. Not even with Ash and that had been, what she thought at the time, her greatest love. And saddest if she were being honest.

 

But something inside her absolutely flourished when Chris touched her. Awakening to a new found sexual part of herself. She felt no shame in the things she desired from him or wanted to do to him. She should feel something akin to contrition towards her actions last night. But she couldn’t. There was no room for it.

 

Back in her own cabin she showers. She knows she should rest more before they depart from the starbase tomorrow but... she can barely sleep. All she can think about is how happy she is. A happiness she hasn’t felt before. A new genre of joy that was unfamiliar but welcomed.

 

And she thinks in eagerness at the thought that such a night could be repeated.

 

Of course... a starship working round the clock to find a fugitive and a being that existed seemingly without the rules of space and time was not something to be taken lightly. A week had passed.

 

A week of longing looks, twelve hour shifts, sleepless nights, very few leads and the need to eat, hydrate, exorcise and make time for friendships that existed before Captain Perfect Face came along took center stage.

 

During bridge crew meetings she attempted to remain as professional as she was able. She faulted a little at first but gained her footing early on, falling into a routine and avoiding his gaze too much or not at all. Chris seemed to be doing the same. He did it with such ease. She avoided sitting too close to him, of asking his opinion too much, of taking great care to maintain a safe distance.

 

Attempting to recreate the platonic and professional relationship they had before she heard the words, _“spread your legs”_ drip from his mouth like a sinful commandment.

 

But maintaining that distance was growing harder and harder and deeper her frustrations grew.

 

She was becoming irritable, snapping a little here and there. But all was forgiven, she used the excuse that the stress of the mission at hand was starting to get to her. Kayla jokingly said over breakfast one morning in the mess hall that maybe Michael just needed to get laid.

 

Truer words had never been spoken.

 

Chris was like a drug and she was having extreme withdrawals. She had thought she could keep up the act long enough that maybe he would be out of her system but, sadly, no dice. In fact the easy routine she had thought was full proof was beginning to crack at the edges.

 

A long... deep, thick cut. Sharp, lean and... masculine. Gentle, rough hands that could heal, that could bend and bruise. Lips that could kiss any pain into oblivion. Those perfect hands, running up and down hot wanton flesh, hugging her body close. Driving firm, fiery flesh into her again and again-

 

“... and we believe that with just a little more digging we can decypher what else the sphere may or may not know about the signals. Burnham, do you have anything to add?”

 

Someone said her name and she was sure something else had preceded that too. Make it up, nod your head and smile. No, there was an inflection, a question.

 

“No. I... I’m sorry.”

 

Everyone’s head turns in her direction, Saru makes a little click, Gen exchanges a look with Bryce.

 

“I’ve been distracted.” She adds the last sentence in Pike’s direction.

“You have nothing to add?” Linus asks and she shakes her head, clearing her throat.

 

Shit. She’s fucking soaked, and he’s just sitting there, _watching_ her. They’re all watching her but his under his scrutiny she shrinks like a violet.

 

_Tease yourself a little... I said play with yourself not fuck your pretty cunt with your fingers-_

 

“I think that’ll be all,” Chris announces, sending each officer to their duties. “Burnham, a word?”

 

Thank fucking Christ. Although she’s sure it’s just to remind her that their duty comes before... well, either of them.

 

Michael watches as each officer leaves, talking amongst themselves completely unaware of the turmoil she now faces or of the boiling sexual tension between their commanding officer and science specialist. When they’re finally alone you could hear a pin drop. He hasn’t spoken or moved and she squirms lightly in her seat, the wetness beginning to seep through her panties and into her trousers.

 

God, if she could just make it stop. Or if he could simply speak! Instead, he lifts a hand, making a “come here” motion with those fucking fingers- fingers that had been buried inside her, stroking her to orgasm. She sets her hands on the arms of her chair, forcing herself to stand and move towards him.

 

When she stops a chair away he tilts his head,

 

“Closer.” He commands and she sucks in a small breath, before she can move he slides the chair blocking her away with his foot.

 

Oh shit.

 

Michael comes to stand before him, nearly brushing his knees with her legs. He eyes her up and down and takes note of how she’s not meeting his face,

 

“Turn around.” Chris says slowly, his hands clasped in front of him in his lap. Shifting her gaze to his face she recognizes that look in his eye. But he couldn’t possibly think... _right now_? They were on duty. “Burnham, do you need to be ordered?” He asks when she doesn’t move.

 

Yes, maybe she fucking did. Maybe she was tormented because she went virtually her whole life without having sex and now she’s sexually frustrated for the first time in her life and it was his fault.

 

She shakes her head and turns slowly.

 

“Put your hands on the table.” Wait what? She knows he won’t like it if she questions him but she does hesitate. He doesn’t order her again, simply lets the command sink in... sink in, like how she wants his cock to sink into her till she feels it in her belly.

 

Okay, she’ll play along with whatever the hell this was.

 

What, was he going to spank her? She rolls her eyes at the thought of something so ridiculous.

 

She hears his chair roll away, then he stands.

 

Michael stifles a gasp when she sees his shadow cast over the table, directly behind her.

 

“You’ve been distracted,” he points out. “It didn’t show at first but lately... something on your mind?” His voice is at the back of her neck and she knows he’s breathing on her on purpose. Making her bite her bottom lip, making her want to drive her hips into his crotch which she knows is just out of reach.

 

“Yes.” She answers, her voice quivering slightly. “I think you know what.”

“We’re all very busy, Burnham.” He answers her, his hand finally cupping her hip and bending her forward a little more so her elbows are on the table and her belly tightens, her pussy clenches and releases another waterfall of wetness. “I think you of all people should be understanding.”

 

Michael nods.

 

“I- I understand, Captain.” She answers, breathy and red.

“Do you?” He makes a “mmm” sound in his throat. “I think you need a refresher course.”

 

Suddenly his hands reach to the front of her pants, roughly undoing them with a speed that stuns her and leaves her shaking. He yanks them down to her knees along with her soaked panties and sighs, her pussy glistening in the yellow glow of the room.

 

“I thought you had better patience,” he says into her ear and she moans softly.

“Please.” She begs.

“Please, what?” His hands wraps around her chin, forcing her to look back at him.

“I’ve... I’ve needed you.”

 

Chris grunts as he grinds his crotch into her bare ass and she moans softly at the feeling of his cock against her.

 

“Yeah?” He steps back a little. “I think you’ve been _too_ needy.” Michael cries out as his hand suddenly lands on her ass and she shoots him glare over her shoulder. He presses his other hand into the small of her back holding her place. “Have you?” He asks and she sucks in a shocked breath.

 

Did he... he just spanked her! She felt humiliated, angry and... _son of a bitch_.

 

“No.” She answers, another slap and she hisses at the queer sensation of pain kissing pleasure against her skin.

 

“What was that?” He asks her, his eyes darkening to reveal the lust underneath.

“No... I think you’ve been holding out on me.” Another slap and she grits her teeth.

“Really?” Two more and she cries out quietly and squeezes her thighs together, anything to relieve the pressure any way she can.

 

Michael’s never been spanked before. Punishment on Vulcan was psychological and her birth parents didn’t believe in physically punishing her.  

 

“You think it’s been easy for me,” he whispers, bringing her ass back into the space of his hard length and she moans softly. “Keeping my eyes off you, pretending I don’t know what it’s like to be inside you?”

 

Fuck, keep talking.

 

“Are you back to the shower, too? Fucking yourself with your fingers?” Shit, each question is coupled with another slap to her reddening ass. She nods quickly.

 

“I’ve jerked off thinking of you every night,” he confesses into her neck, his lips moving along her cheek as he pulls her torso up against his chest, fuck she can feel his cock twitch against her ass. “I cum so hard thinking about you.”

 

“Fuck, _please_ , Christopher.” She begs him and he reaches down and unbuttons his trousers, moving them far enough.

 

Okay, if he had more time he probably would’ve made her wait longer. But it’s already been too long, she’s not the only frustrated.

 

Michael moans as if she’s already cum when he begins pushing his cock inside her. His mouth hangs open, air leaving his mouth as he feels her envelop him in her tight pussy, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

 

She reaches back, fingers in his hair, tugging as he begins pumping his hips in sharp, fast strokes. The doors are sealed and sound proof. There’s no way... the bridge can’t hear her. But that doesn’t stop her from fearing... **_fuck_ **, she’s facing away from the door. Her hips are banging into the table loudly, shaking the forgotten coffee cup, it’ll fall...

 

The force is moving the cup closer to the edge.

 

“Fuck,” he grunts hard into her neck, pushing her forward back onto the table again, moving her legs further apart as he sets a faster, deeper pace. His cock skidding across her g-spot with impeccable aim. Michael sees the cup, with each shove of his hips it’s going to tip over. She can’t help but want it to. She reaches for his hand at her hip, entwining their fingers together as she tries desperately to remain quiet.

 

They can’t hear her, there’s no way they could hear her, there’s no way Saru will come walking in PADD in hand to deliver some important message only to see his friend and shipmate being fucked oh so very hard by their captain on the table they had just convened at.

 

No... there’s no way. But that doesn’t stop Michael from fearing it and from her desire to spike to another level entirely.

 

God, he’s so deep. So big and... she had almost forgotten how full he made her.

 

“Ah, close,” she warns him, he reaches down and rubs her clit and she chokes back a sob of pleasure at how sensitive it is and how neglected it had been. She had needed his fingers and cock, his mouth, his affection, his adoration...

 

He pulls her up again, she hears the sound of plastic wheels against the floor and all of the sudden he’s sitting and he still has her in his lap, his cock brutally impaling her.

 

“Move.” He orders and she takes a moment to steady herself. One moment he has her bent over, spanking her like she’s some naughty school girl fantasy and the next he’s sitting with his dick still supplanted inside her and... Jesus, it was almost too much.

 

But Michael finds it within herself to move, lifting and sitting back down on him again. Shit, each new angle he introduces to her becomes her favorite. His hands pull her down onto him, banging into her and if he wasn’t holding onto the table in front of her she could only imagine them sliding across the floor. It would’ve seemed extremely comedic.

 

The cup inches closer to the edge... they’ll hear it on the bridge if it falls, they’ll find her, see her-

 

“Yes, yes,” she pants again and again as he pummels her sweet spot and she feels him grip her waist, his forehead in her back. The fingers of his unoccupied hand continue to parade across her clit until she’s not so much lifting and sitting anymore as she in squirming and finally she lets go and moves a hand over her mouth to stifle her cry.

 

The cup almost falls.

 

She feels his hot breath coming through her uniform jacket and undershirt, down to her skin, releasing a heavy and muffled grunt as he cums hard inside her, stiffening and maintaining her against him.

 

“That’s for making me wait.” He whispers into her ear. Michael shakes her head.

“I thought you were making _me_ wait.” She says without a hint of resentment, simply astonishment.

 

“Seriously?” He says and she feels a bubble of laughter rising through her chest and she turns to look back at him, his face pink and smiling.

 

“We need to communicate better.” She decides, licking her chapped lips and kissing him tenderly.

 

“If I had known you were that hard up I would’ve done this sooner.” He admits and after a time of simply reclining in his lap, his cock softening inside her, she lifts herself up and adjusts her clothes.

 

He reaches out and fixes her collar, his eyes astute, then he brushes his hands over her face.

 

“How do I look?” She asks him and he thinks for a moment.

“Well you don’t have sex hair so that’s good,” he says casually and she giggles again. “But...”

“ _But_ what?” She asks him closely.

“You do have _that_... look.”

 

Michael looks away, that same bashful feeling of... whatever it is he makes her feel. He tilts her chin up with his fingers.

 

“Have dinner with me tonight. No work, no muss and no fuss.” He suggests.

“I do muss and fuss very well.” She quips and he clicks his tongue.

“Not tonight. Please?” Ugh, kill her with a bat’leth she could hear him beg till the cows came home- that’s definitely something he would’ve said.

 

“Alright,” she finally gives him. He looks like he just found a pot of gold. “On one condition.”

“I’m all ears.”

“That it’s my turn to watch.”

 

For a moment Chris is a little confused, he goes to ask what she means but by the serious look in her eye he catches up and he almost back peddles. Almost...

 

“Watch?” He questions for clarification so there is no mistaking what she means.

“Hmm.” Is her only answer and he thinks he needs a cold shower because now she’s going to leave him to think about that the rest of the shift.

 

“Just so we’re clear,” he says when she reaches the door. “I mean...”

“Did you think you were going to get away that easy, captain?” Is all she says before leaving, a different sort of sway in her hips as the door slides shut.

 

“No. No I did not.” He says to no one.


End file.
